E-text prepared by Mark C. Orton, Jacqueline Jeremy, Ian Deane, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) The William Penn Lectures HIDDEN FROM THE PRUDENT [Illustration: Paul Jones' signature.] 1921 Walter H. Jenkins, Printer Philadelphia Preface This is the seventh of the series of lectures known as the _William Penn Lectures_. They are supported by the Young Friends' Movement of Philadelphia Yearly Meeting, which was organized on Fifth month 13th, 1916, at Race Street Meeting House, in Philadelphia, for the purpose of closer fellowship; for the strengthening of such association and the interchange of experience, of loyalty to the ideals of the Society of Friends; and for the preparation by such common ideals for more effective work through the Society of Friends for the growth of the Kingdom of God on earth. The name of William Penn has been chosen because he was a great Adventurer, who in fellowship with his friends started in his youth on the holy experiment of endeavoring "to live out the laws of Christ in every thought and word and deed," that these might become the laws and habits of the State. Paul Jones, Secretary of The Fellowship of Reconciliation, delivered this seventh lecture on "Hidden from the Prudent" at Race Street Meeting House, on Fifth month 8th, 1921. Philadelphia, 1921. Hidden From the Prudent In the latter part of January, 1915, I visited for the first time the Ute Indian Reservation in the northeastern part of Utah and drove with the missionary to Ouray, where the older Indians were gathered for the monthly issue of rations by the Government. That evening in the log store, with some fifty or sixty Indians gathered around the stove on boxes or seated on the counters under the flickering light of the lanterns hanging from the roof, we spoke of God's love for men. The next morning we found one of our church families in a log hut, gathered about a letter which they had just received from their boy who was at a Government School in California. When we had read the letter, the father of the family, Albert Cesspouch, a man of about forty-five, blind from trachoma, which affects so many of the Indians, stood up and drawing his blanket around him held up his hand to signify that he was going to speak.